Friday, February 10, 2012

Night time is so hard

I've been spending all my time outside my house.  I've been doing absolutely everything I can to stay out--long walks in random neighborhoods, wondering around stores, hanging out in my car, trying to fall asleep in it, going to plant nurseries.  I love plants, but seeing Azaleas is so hard.  Zealie is the name I came up with by combining the name she came with and Azalea.  She was so obsessed with this giant Azalea bush where I used to walk her on a leash.  She liked to run under it, stalking the little finches that lived in it.   I have a jar terrarium with moss and a little Azalea in it.  I am not sure how to feel about it now that she's gone.  It makes me feel sad, but it makes me feel closer to her.  I don't know how to be at home.  When I'm out, it feels like she's still alive, waiting for me at home.  When I am home I have the urge to call her to come sit in my lap.  When I am home, she's always on me or touching me, or curled around my head.  I just realized I wrote that in the present tense.  I can't seem to use the past tense for her yet.  I keep accidentally calling everyone Zealie.  It's so strange not to have her.  It doesn't feel real.  I swear I keep hearing her meow.  I feel so... disconnected I guess.  I don't know how else to describe it.  I just don't feel right.  She's been so connected to me, emotionally and even physically since I've had her.  It feels like I'm missing a vital part of myself.  

I have been cuddling with Sawyer as much as possible but he is being so weird.  He becomes really needy at times and then won't let me touch him at others.  He is normally very affectionate.  I bottle fed him as a kitten.  I got him when he was only two weeks old.  I was a vet tech for a little while and someone brought in these two little stray kittens that had been rejected by their mother.  Someone took home his sister and I took him home to bottle feed him with the idea that I'd find him a good home when he was old enough.  I brought him home and Zealie adopted him.  She carried him around like he was her baby.  He would knead her stomach and try to nurse on her.  They were inseparable.  I know he is so confused.  They spent most of their time cuddling.  Zealie would pin him down and clean him.  He doesn't understand.   He just walks around the house looking for her.  He has made these really strange howling sounds I've never heard before.  It makes me so sad for him.

Everything in this apartment reminds me of her.  All the cat hair on my clothes.  All her favorite blankets and pillows.  All her cans of favorite food.  All my vases because she used to jump up on shelves where kept something breakable, wait until I could see her and then push it off the shelf when she was angry at me.  I keep having this urge to call her.  I hear a scratching noise and I automatically scold her for not using her scratcher.  Then I remember that she's gone and that she had such a violent death.  I hold it in until my gf goes to bed and then I fall apart.  I end up silently sobbing so hard that I have to sit on the floor.  Its like my legs just won't work.

I feel so lost and confused without her.  When I was feeling helpless and the urge to die became too strong, I would pick her up, and bury my face in her little tummy and listen to the rumbling purr.  It made me feel a tiny bit later.  My hopeless feelings and impulsive urges have been pretty constant and strong and I can't figure out how to soothe myself.  I haven't slept since Monday night and I know that's making things harder for me.  I've taken two or three times my normal doze of sedatives to try to sleep at night, but I still can't sleep.  It puts me in this zombie mode which helps me stop sobbing.  I've gone through so much IB profin because I pretty much always have a headache now.  I can't stop thinking about all the stupid choices I made that put her life at risk and I'm overwhelmed with guilt and self hatred, and all these what ifs and I wishes.  I wish I had decided to skip DBT and curl up on the couch with her.  I wish I had turned on her little heating pad so she'd stay on her chair.  I wish I had been smarter about keeping her in the yard.  What if I had planted a bunch of catnip in the yard so that she'd do nothing but roll around in it all day?

She was such a funny at.  I used to be a Starbucks barista for one of my jobs in college.  At the end of the night, the baristas are allowed to take home the left over sandwiches and pastries.  One time I brought home this box of muffins and left it on the counter before I went to bed.  When I woke up in the morning I went to grab one of the muffins and discovered she had taken a big bite on the top of each muffin.  I laughed so hard.  She used to sit behind the shower curtain as I showered and had to follow me into the bathroom.  If I closed the door to the bathroom, she'd wait at the door, sticking her little paws underneath it.  She would get in these little frisky moods occasionally.  She'd take off running around the house, jumping and doing the kitty sideways walk.  She was 14, but the vet said she was super healthy and didn't seem anywhere near her age.  The vet said she could live to be 20.  I was robbed six years with her.  I wanted her to die a grumpy old lady.  I wanted her to die in a peaceful, painless way.  I can't stop worrying about how much and how long she suffered. 

I can't take her collar off my wrist.  I've been wearing latex gloves to cover the collar when I shower because I don't want to get it wet and wash off her hair.  I can't stop looking at all her photo album.  I can't stop holding her favorite blanket.  It still smells like her.  I can pretend it's not real when I'm not at home, but nighttime makes that impossible.  I keep waiting to wake up from this nightmare.  I want to wake up to this warm fuzzy creature wrapped around my head like a helmet, purring all night.  I want to scratch and rub her and hear her tiny little grunts of pleasure.  I miss her love bites and I miss the little conversations we would have.  She was such a talker.  She'd meow and I'd meow back and she'd answer.  I miss how impatient she was when I was preparing her food.   I miss her so much.  So so so much.